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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598567">he wore black and i wore white (he would always win the fight)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveyaaas/pseuds/fiveyaaas'>fiveyaaas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(between handler/vanya), Abusive Relationships, Aftermath of Torture, Amnesia, Assassins &amp; Hitmen, Commission 👏🏻bitch 👏🏻vanya👏🏻, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Smut, F/M, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, ILY, Implied/Referenced Torture, Murder, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Panic Attacks, Protective Number Five | The Boy, Smut, This is for julia, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Whump, it will still be a happy ending tho, other tags will be added, this is going to be more heavy than i originally intended</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 02:14:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,053</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598567</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveyaaas/pseuds/fiveyaaas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She needed a home; they needed her.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/JjdoggieS/gifts">JjdoggieS</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for Julia!!!! Ilysm for agreeing to not one, not two, but THREE fic exchanges. You’re a hero, you’re appreciated, and you’re a WONDERFUL FRIEND. (Also sugarhusband Five and bodyguard au will be coming up  eventually👀 I’m about to open up a can of WIPs,,,,, bc I have agreed,,,,, to so many,,,, fic exchanges)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rain fell heavy on her skin, easily covering the fact that she was crying. Mascara and eyeliner ran sloppily down her cheeks, and she didn’t think she would find a bed to warm tonight. By the time she’d turned eighteen, she’d learned how to do makeup well enough that strangers would be willing to let her sleep in their bed. Vanya had grown used to it, would just close her eyes and let them have their way with her, thinking about the blankets and the heat and the promise of a meal if she was lucky. </p><p>When she’d run away from home at fifteen years old, she’d not expected it to turn out like <em> this.  </em></p><p>Five had been pissed off at her, yelling that he didn’t want her around, that nobody wanted her around. She’d run away that night, and he hadn’t come looking for her at all. </p><p>She sometimes wondered if he would be one of the strangers to open their car door. If he would be one of the strangers who took her to bed and went for a second round come morning. If he would he one of the strangers she’d say goodbye to when they told her she had to leave. </p><p>Vanya didn’t want to ever find out. </p><p>And she didn’t. </p><p>But by the time it was too late to find out if Five would have found her and taken her away, she wished that that had been the worst case scenario, like she’d always imagined it would have been.</p><p>It wasn’t.</p><hr/><p>She’d be long gone before Five ever tried to search for her one last time, and he’d make the decision, finally, to let go of trying to find her and jump forward many years into the future. </p><p>And by the point he got there, as one might have guessed, everyone in the world would be dead.</p><hr/><p>Five was 19 years old when his world was turned upside down. He had been an arrogant child, ready to prove at any moment that he was powerful enough to defy space and time. Not only would he play God, he was convinced he’d be <em> better.  </em></p><p>His arrogance had been stunted, just a little, when his sister had run away. Five searched his city for months, and then he searched outside of it. She was impossible to track, and many times, he wondered if she was dead. </p><p>Five didn’t think he could handle it if she was. </p><p>There was a certain point when he realized that Vanya wasn’t even really his sister, that all of them had been <em> purchased </em> and not <em> adopted. </em>She’d been long gone when he learned of this, and he’d accepted the information with the same lack of response he’d had for everything else.</p><p>He didn’t think he was depressed, but he supposed many people didn’t think that when they were. Information simply washed over him, and he filed it away but didn’t respond to it at all. There was no purpose to that knowledge, not really. </p><p>Five waited to jump forward in time. He waited because Vanya was out there. Because she’d run away after he’d screamed at her when he’d been trying to manipulate time between his fingers. Because he couldn’t handle the guilt of knowing that at any moment, his Vanya might truly be lost to it. </p><p>Because it would have been his fault if she was.</p><hr/><p>He’d be long gone by the time she tried reaching out to him, lying on that surgical table and flopping around desperately. Five would have never known to look there at all, really. A mask was put over her face, and chemicals began to suffocate her. She fell to the table, and the last noise she heard was a drill.</p><hr/><p>That was not how the story began.</p><hr/><p>At the heart of it all, it was a love story. Tragic, yes, but a love story nonetheless.</p><hr/><p>It began with whispered secrets between little kids, confiding in one another because they’d finally found a safe space. It began with held hands and healed wounds and words which held promises. It began with two friends, who found a sliver of something good in the chaos surrounding them. It began with healing, before the hurt could even reach them. </p><p>They were just children, though, and they were in an environment where everything was going <em> against </em> them. </p><p>When they grew older, Five grew more arrogant, and Vanya grew more isolated. It was not just one gash, but a thousand small cuts. And when they’d accumulated over time, she’d grown weary and tired and unwilling to accept them. </p><p>So, she ran away. </p><p>It wasn’t just that Five had told her he didn’t want her there, but it didn’t help. If he had asked, she would have said that that had been what done it, but he never found her and never <em> could </em>ask. </p><p>And she was starving when the Handler came to her. Vulnerable. </p><p>She offered Vanya a job, and Vanya took it. </p><p>The woman came to her, dressed in nice, elegant clothes. She promised her a life where she wouldn’t starve, and she promised her a life where she wouldn’t be alone. </p><p>Vanya wouldn’t ever admit out loud which she desired more. </p><p>It was something she understood, somewhat, as well. When the woman told her that it was a position dealing with making corrections in time, Vanya remembered all of the nights she’d stayed up and listened to Five tell her about his theories. Maybe she hadn’t entirely understood them, but she could learn. She was willing to learn. </p><p>She needed a home; they needed her. </p><p>That is what she would tell anybody who asked. </p><p>But nobody could find her <em> to </em>ask. </p><p>At least, not until it was too late. </p><p>She accepted the offer.</p><hr/><p>“What is your name?” The Handler asked her. </p><p>“I am Seven,” Seven said, unsure why she asked the question at all. “Number Seven.” </p><p>“And, Number Seven, are you ready to begin?”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am,” Seven told her, crossing her arms over her chest securely. She wondered if she was a shy person, but, as soon as the thought entered her mind, it was gone. All Seven could be was a hard worker, and she would make them proud. </p><p>“Good,” the Handler praised, flicking through a file on her desk. “Your first task is to end the world.” </p><p>“How do I do that, ma’am?”</p><p>The Handler pursed her lips, “You’ll learn in training.” </p><p>Seven nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I look forward to it.”</p><p>“Make me proud, sweetheart.” </p><p>She preened at the thought of someone as smart and perfect and elegant as her having pride for her. “Yes, ma’am.” </p><hr/><p>His legs trudged forward through the detritus, and he accepted that he would die in the wasteland surrounding him. Long ago, his liver had started to fail; he could tell from the jaundiced tone of his skin. Delores lay beside him, but he suspected she wasn’t very alive, either. She hadn’t spoken a word at all in the past three months. </p><p>Five landed on a pile of glass, but he stayed there, not wanting to get up. It was liquor bottles, underneath him. Mocking him for drinking despite knowing it would only kill him faster. </p><p>That was kind of the point, wasn’t it?</p><p>He ignored Delores, not wanting to look at her, imagining that it might be the silent treatment again. Five wasn’t going to fall for it. There weren't exactly any rehabs there, anyways. Delores had started arguing with him most recently because he’d said something about marriage, and she’d told him that she didn’t want that unless he could say out loud that he was completely through with Vanya. When he’d told her that she was just asking for that out of jealousy, not saying what she wanted to hear or entertaining saying something so absurd aloud, she then started talking about his drinking, instead.</p><p>She’d stopped speaking a while ago, and he figured the silent treatment wasn't entirely horrible. For now.</p><p>His hand touched the gun beside him, contemplating. He’d lived a long life, hadn’t he?</p><p>And then there was movement. </p><p>He glanced up in confusion and then awe and then apprehension. His gun was pointed at the woman in front of him, who offered a job. </p><p>In exchange for going home.</p><p>He needed a way home; they needed him. </p><p>He accepted the offer.</p><hr/><p>It was a love story, but it was tragic.</p><hr/><p>Seven sometimes dreamed of a life before the Commission. She dreamed it was beautiful, wonderful, <em> extraordinary. </em>There was a lovely house filled with people just like her, who loved her and wanted to be her friend. The walls surrounding her would be lovely and bright and cheerful, and she would live for all the possibilities that came with it. </p><p>Seven was not ordinary, not at all, but she thought extraordinary was a lovely concept, anyways. Even if she could never be quite like the rest of the world, within the confines of that house, she would not be alone. They would be like her, and they would care for her as much as she imagined caring for them. </p><p>It felt wrong, to fantasize about it. The Handler was good to her, took care of her and comforted her and made sure she was fed. She shouldn’t want a different life than the one she had, but she found herself thinking about it every once in a while when she untangled from the Handler’s arms to take an assignment.</p><p>She was talented at it- the killing. It wasn’t that Seven necessarily <em> enjoyed </em> being a killer, but she appreciated the pride in the Handler’s eyes when she made someone’s heart stop beating. Seven was talented at what she did, and the Handler was so kind to let her stay with her. When she’d woken up at the Handler’s home at 20, she’d told her that Seven had suffered a head injury, one that had taken all of her memories of <em> before.  </em></p><p>But Seven had turned 24 yesterday, and she wondered again. </p><p>It was always her birthday that did it. October 1st rang bells in her head, and she didn’t know if it was because they were warning her or welcoming her. </p><p>Seven liked to think that they were welcoming.</p><p>There had to be someone out there, waiting for her, and she could stop working for the Handler then. She would be sad to leave her, afraid she’d disappointed her, but she didn’t think the Commission could be her home. Not like the home she dreamed of when she cared to dream at all. </p><hr/><p>“I do not want a partner,” Five said, tugging at his collar. It was itchy. He wondered if it was specifically tailored that way so employees would be okay killing the first thing they had their eyes on. If so, it worked. </p><p>The Handler glanced up from her desk. “I think you’ll find you could work very well with her.”</p><p>Gross. She wasn’t subtle. </p><p>“I especially don’t want <em> you </em>as a partner,” Five snapped. He’d groomed himself as much as he possibly could once he’d gotten access to a shower and clean clothes and everything else he’d lacked in the wasteland. It had been odd, seeing his own reflection, but he had only shrugged, brushing his teeth again just to feel the taste of something that wasn’t spoiled food or cockroaches on his tongue. When he’d teleported to the Handler’s office, he’d been subjected to the most heinous thing yet. Having a partner. Cruelty wouldn’t bring him anything he wanted in the first place, he’d learned. If he’d been a little less cruel, none of the torment would have happened. Sighing, he amended, “I work better alone.” </p><p>The Handler’s brows lifted amusedly. “Would you at least meet her first? She’s worked alone too a while, and she’s been gracious enough to accept a partner in the first place.” </p><p>Five sighed again, sealing his eyes shut. “Fine. I’ll meet her.”</p><p>“Excellent.”</p><p>She went back to her work, and Five felt a scowl start to overtake his features. “When will I meet her?” </p><p>“When I’ve decided you’re ready. You have to train first.” </p><p>Five glared at her. </p><p>“Orientation will start soon,” the Handler drummed her nails over a file, whistling. When he realized she wasn’t going to say anything else, Five pursed his lips, blinking away to the cafeteria to eat. </p><p>They were all dressed the same, and there was something oddly comforting to a uniform. Five would have killed to wear the Academy uniform when he was in the wasteland because it would have meant he was with his family. </p><p>Vanya would have been alone when the world ended, and it saddened him greatly, knowing that if she hadn’t passed before, she would have been alone when it happened. </p><p>Well, he supposed she may not have been, could’ve been with someone else for years after she’d run away, but that made him confusingly furious. It was almost more comforting to think she’d been alone, but he’d never say that aloud if he ever saw her again. </p><p>Five was determined to see her again. </p><p>He thought of what he would say if he did. Would he fall to his knees and beg her for forgiveness? Would he force her to stay by his side while he figured out how to save the world? Would he watch over her, knowing he could never quite reach her if she were happy without him?</p><p>It turned out, none of those things would happen. </p><p>When Five saw her again, he was in so much shock that all he could do was stare at her, eating lunch alone while she flipped through case files. </p><p>There was no way—</p><p>But it <em> was </em> her. He’d be able to recognize her in much larger crowds than this one, be able to recognize her from much further away. After all, she was who he gravitated towards, and he could feel the pull of her taking him to her side. </p><p>“Vanya,” he murmured reverently after landing in front of her.</p><p>She didn’t look up from the files, so he said it louder. No response. </p><p>Had she lost her hearing?</p><p>“Seven,” he snapped, losing patience. </p><p>She glanced up confusedly, “Yes?”</p><p>He frowned, reigning in his anger. Clearly, she was trying to get a rise out of him by feigning nonchalance. Five wasn’t going to let that work. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>“I work here, sir,” Vanya said, folding her hands together, looking so young and so—</p><p>“Why do you work here, Vanya?”</p><p>She smiled, entirely too polite, “I think you have mistaken me for someone else, sir.”</p><p>He shook his head, “Do you not remember me?”</p><p><em> ‘Is it because of my age? Or is it because you’ve just forgotten me? Was I just a forgettable part of your life that you’ve moved on entirely from?’ </em>He didn’t add that, would never say that out loud to anybody, but he did wonder, internally cringing.</p><p>Vanya blinked confusedly, “Am I supposed to?” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry I took so long to update this WIP!!!! I updated the tags, so please check and make sure you’re still comfortable with the fic before you read!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” </p><p>Seven frowned at the older man as he snapped at the Handler, stepping in front of her protectively. He clearly caught the movement, and something in his eyes blazed as he did. </p><p>“What did you do to her?” he snarled. </p><p>Feeling tears prick her vision, Seven commanded, “Stop talking to her that way.” </p><p>Surprisingly, he stopped talking, sealing his lips and staring at her with an expression she didn’t understand. </p><p>“Seven,” the Handler said softly, and she inched forward, standing right by her side, close enough that she’d fall into her lap if she wasn’t careful. “This is Five, your new partner.”</p><p>“Five?” she choked out. “Is he like me?”</p><p>Lips quirking into a tender smile, the woman nodded. Seven wanted to fall to her knees and thank her, over and over and over again, but she knew that her boss didn’t appreciate what she called ‘excessive displays of loyalty’ and that she’d punish her for acting so carelessly. </p><p>But this man was like <em> her! </em> Maybe he was from the home she’d always let herself dream of, with cheerily painted walls and kindness in every corner. </p><p>“I would love for Five to be my partner,” she told the Handler, holding in all of the excitement she was feeling, not wanting to be hurt for it. She turned to him. “I know you don’t want me as your partner, but… would you be?” For reasons she couldn’t fathom, just going on an instinct that she knew would convince him to agree to this, she added, “Please, Five? For me?”</p><p>His bright green eyes softened infinitesimally, and she felt hope thrum through her veins. However, he flicked his gaze to her boss, and his expression hardened instantly. “If I do this, her contract ends with mine.”</p><p>The woman raised her brows. “If she wishes to leave, at any time, she is allowed to go. My dear has no contract with me. She <em> wants </em>to be with me. Don’t you, Seven?”</p><p>“Yes, I do.” She wasn’t sure why she was acting this way, and she felt nervous. The Handler made no attempt to reassure her, though, so Seven shouldn’t be upset. Her employer had told her that she couldn’t be upset, not unless she told her she was, and she trusted her. Seven turned to Five. “I wish to be here. With the Handler. She is kind and generous and—”</p><p>“You sound like Grace,” he snapped, causing Seven to flinch. “Except I can tell that you’re really human.”</p><p>“I don’t know what you mean.” Seven knew her voice was too small, too scared; she had to stop sounding so whiny if she didn’t want the punishment she got last time she’d shown weakness. Sometimes, her eyes would be painted with images of that room she’d been locked in, hearing screams of people that felt familiar but weren’t anybody she knew, laying down in the damp and cold cell because it was so small she’d hit her head otherwise. The voices likely came from life <em> before. </em>Before she’d gotten injured and had to be taken in by the Handler. “Please do not yell at me.”</p><p>Five backed off, staring at her in shock. “I’ll be her partner,” he said, holding a defeated tone. “Is there anything else you need from me?”</p><p>“No, that will be all. You’re dismissed.”</p><p>He started to reach for Seven, and she lifted her arm, ready to take his outstretched hand into her own. Then, the Handler shot her a dark look, and she dropped it, backing away from him. </p><p>Hopefully,  if he was from her life before, he would understand. In the life she’d dreamed up, her family always understood. More importantly, they had always listened. She was never alone with them. </p><p>And if he was from the life she fantasized about every time she was able to fantasize at all, he wouldn’t let her be alone in this.</p><hr/><p>Five didn’t try to stop the tears that were spilling down his cheeks when he lay in bed that night, knowing that something had been done to Vanya that had likely changed her for good. At the very least, her memories had been taken from her completely, and he couldn’t help but think of every time he’d thought she’d been dead all those years. </p><p>Would it have been better? For her to die and never be put through a pain that he couldn’t even fathom? A pain that he was certain she’d have had to gone through?</p><p>What <em> had </em> happened to her? Who had <em> done </em>this to her? He knew the Commision was larger than just the Handler, but he was also pretty sure that she had to have been the one to do it, with how smug she’d been as Vanya crouched towards her, like she would protect her from the person who’d promised all of his life to be the one to protect her. </p><p>She was his best friend, and he’d had no idea <em> where </em> to even look for her. If he had tried harder, would he have been able to prevent her from experiencing all of this? The arrogance he’d had, leaving to prove his theories on time travel without even knowing if she was <em> alive.  </em></p><p>Would it have been better for the guilt he was feeling if all that had happened to her had been death?</p><p>He could understand death. All of his siblings had been dead, but he could also <em> fix </em>death. It existed within the bounds of his powers, stayed within his scope so that he could comfort himself on many cold nights in an apocalyptic wasteland with the knowledge that he’d save their lives. </p><p>Five could not fix this, and he didn’t even think Vanya wanted him to do so.</p><p>For a few weeks after she’d first gotten her name, Five had refused to call her anything besides Seven, mad at her for choosing to get a name when he hadn’t, upset that she would choose something that he didn’t, like he was responsible for determining all of her choices. Now, he would give anything to call her Vanya and for her to respond. </p><p>It occurred to him that he was in Hell, that this was the punishment he was receiving. Vanya, afraid of him and avoiding him. Him, trying to do whatever he could to be a loyal soldier so he could go home and take her home with him. She wouldn’t want him to take her, though, and he didn’t know if it was even more cruel to take her away from this place. Especially when he <em> scared </em> her. </p><p>The agony of realizing that she was <em> scared </em>of him kept piercing his chest, knowing that she would have probably tried to not partner with him if it weren’t for the fact that his name matched hers. </p><p>How ironic that when their names finally matched again. If only he’d known this was the price he’d have to pay when he refused to call her Vanya, even though she’d nearly cried multiple times because of it, insisting, <em> ‘I have a name, Five. Why can’t you let me be happy with it? Why can’t you just let me have this one thing?’ </em></p><p>If he’d let her have that, if he had let her have more than just that, if he’d have been good enough to her that she’d never have tried running away in the first place, would she have recognized him?</p><p>Because surely if he’d have been as good to her as she seemed to think the Handler had been, she wouldn’t have just <em> forgotten </em>him.</p><hr/><p>As the Handler pulled away from Seven’s sweat-soaked skin, wiping her slick chin, she told her, “Is the mission clear, my sweet?”</p><p>Because the Handler was good and <em> kind, </em>she’d not punished Seven for showing as much weakness as she had before. Seven was thankful for her kindness, knowing that she’d done nothing to deserve it, and she crouched on her knees now, prepared to show her appreciation. First though, she recounted her mission, using the blank tone that always made the Handler’s eyes shine with pride. Once she was finished, she gave her a dismissive nod, and Seven wished that she’d explained it better, had said it well enough that she would not look like she was mad at her, like she would yell at her at any moment. </p><p>Seven opened her mouth, not to speak, but to pleasure her employer the way she required of her. When she’d picked her up, saved her life, and taken care of her while she struggled with her head injury, she’d given a few rules to Seven. One of them was taking care of her, how she asked. She didn’t mind touching her. Every once in a while, the Handler would touch her too, and it would all be worth it. More rarely than that, she’d say that she’d done a good job, and Seven did whatever she asked, hoping to one day get to that point again. </p><p>Her lips wobbled as she mouthed at her clit, worried that she’d touched her there too soon, that she’d done this wrong. The Handler didn’t say anything good or bad, and, once, when Seven had asked if she’d done her task right, the Handler had gotten an angry look on her face, telling her she was to never ask for validation. <em> Validation, </em>she had explained. <em>Is</em><em> people wanting a congratulations for doing something wrong. </em></p><p>Thankfully, though, she didn’t comment as Seven continued dragging her tongue against her, just stretching back and letting her do her work. Maybe she <em> had </em>gotten talented at this, and there was no reason for her to worry. That would be wonderful. </p><p>When the Handler was tired of her, she told her that she had another task for Seven. </p><p>“Yes, ma’am?”</p><p>“You are to go to Five’s room.”</p><p>Confused, Seven asked, “To service him as well?”</p><p>“Oh, no. Not unless he requires it of you. But you will sleep beside him, and, if he tries to say that you cannot do that, you are to beg him. Is that clear?”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am.” She knew that there was a scared note to her voice, but, as was becoming the theme of tonight, she didn’t punish her for it. </p><p>Dismissed, Seven walked and walked and walked until she reached the room for Mr. Five, cracking the door open and screaming just as a rough hand closed around her mouth, cutting off the sound. </p><p>Tipping her head back, she whimpered scaredly, hearing the door shut behind her loudly. </p><p>His eyes seemed to adjust in the nightlight, and he let her go, trembling in fear. </p><p>“Vanya?” he asked. Then, seeing her confusion, which she’d gotten each time he’d tried to use that name on her, not sure why he used it or what it meant, he amended, “Seven?”</p><p>“Can I sleep beside you, Five?”</p><p>The old man made a stunned, unsettled noise. “Seven—”</p><p><em> “Please, </em> Five?” She reached forward, to touch him the way she’d been instructed if she had to plead with men. “I’ll do anything you ask if you just—”</p><p>He sucked in a breath, backing away from her, and she didn’t speak, confused. “Don’t touch me that way, Seven.”</p><p>“Do you not want—”</p><p>“If you do not try that again,” he interrupted. “You can sleep beside me.”</p><p>A little surprised that he’d not wanted her to do that, when it had worked for her many times before with other men, she nodded.</p><p>“Sorry,” he mumbled, glancing away as he tugged her to the bed. “You probably don’t understand…”</p><p>“Understand what?”</p><p>“Just don’t do that again, okay?”</p><p>“I’m supposed to. When I need to make a man agree with me, I’m supposed to—”</p><p>“Don’t do that with me,’ he cut her off again. “And, while you’re at it, don’t do that with other men, either.”</p><p>“Why not? How will I get them to do what I want if I don’t?”</p><p>“In the future, if you want something badly enough that you’d… resort to that method with me, just say, <em> ‘Five, this is very important to me,’ </em>and I’ll agree to it. Okay?” He looked like he was feeling a mixture of disbelief that he was having this conversation, depression for something she didn’t know about, irritation at her for suggesting she’d done this multiple times before, and regret for his entire existence. </p><p>“What if I need somebody else to do something I want?”</p><p>“You know how to torture people, don’t you? They’ve trained you how to do so?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Do that instead.”</p><p>Vanya figured that he was old enough, seemed smart enough, that she should trust him. The Handler had sent her to him for a reason, so he probably was somebody she could trust with teaching her. In the future, she’d try his method instead.</p><p>She turned to him, knees pressing against his. Even though he’d said she didn’t want her to touch him, he was responding the way all of the other men had in the past. “But you don’t want me to torture you?”</p><p>He chuckled, eyes bright. “I’ll make you a deal, Sev. If you think I deserve to be tortured, I won’t fight you on it.”</p><p>“Say that again,” Seven said, touching his lip, feeling his mustache. She knew that the expression in his eyes was cautious, but he wasn’t acting upset with her with the way she was touching him. </p><p>His mouth moved against her fingers, and she shivered, moving against him involuntarily. He didn’t comment on this, either. “What do you want me to say again, Seven?”</p><p><em> “Sev. </em>I’ve never been called that before.”</p><p>“You have,” he said gently. “Promise.”</p><p>“Have I been called ‘Vanya’ before?” </p><p>They were whispering like they were sharing secrets, and, for all she knew, maybe they were. She tilted her head closer, letting their noses touch together. Seven angled her hips closer to his, testing the waters. Neither of them said anything about it out loud. Though she knew that she’d never been pressed to him quite like <em> this </em> before, she knew that the feeling of… <em> awakening </em> , like the blood in her body was trying to jump out of her and the bones in her spine had invisible hands tickling them… it wasn’t unfamiliar. “Have we done <em> this </em>before?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Why did you call me Vanya?”</p><p>“Because you once told me that’s <em> all </em> you wanted me to call you.”</p><p>“Call me Seven. It doesn’t confuse me.”</p><p>“Okay, Seven.” </p><p>When she touched his chest, feeling his pulse, rapid against her palm, realizing she’d been hearing his speeding heart along, she asked, “But can you still think of me, in your mind, as Vanya.. or even as Sev?”</p><hr/><p>The sniper felt heavier in his arms when Vanya stood beside him, and she softly murmured, “Why don’t you just use your powers?”</p><p>“You remember me having powers?” Five asked, tipping the gun down, not allowing himself to think that the only reason he was doing so was because he’d once promised himself he’d never let Vanya see him kill. She wasn’t the same girl now. <em> (Clearly. </em>When she’d grabbed at him the night before, he’d felt like he was ripping off his own skin to reject her, but he’d known she was only doing it as per her instruction. He wouldn’t let him touch her, not in the context that she was doing it to make that woman happy, not in the context that she was treating it like he’d treat missions Reginald gave him when he was twelve years old. If she touched him, he didn’t want her to think of it as a chore.)</p><p>Vanya shook her head, and he remembered that he’d asked her a question. “I just know that you’re like me, so, logically, you’d have powers too. Right?”</p><p>Five opened his mouth, about to ask what she meant, when she caught sight of the mark. </p><p>Her eyes turned a shocking white, and a guttural hum left her throat, like she was using the noise to channel… whatever was happening. Five didn’t think he was breathing as the mark looked over to them, confused, before his neck snapped into an unnatural angle. He fell to the ground, and Vanya blinked, eyes turning brown. Besides her eyes changing colors, she’d had no change in her features at all when she’d killed another human being, like this was something she did on a regular basis. </p><p>But he couldn’t focus on that. Not when the realization that Vanya had had powers all of his life was now coming to him. </p><p>“What did you just do?” </p><p>And with the upset tone in his voice, her face crumpled. Killing a person hadn’t caused her distress at all, but him disapproving of her made her look like she wished she was the man standing in front of them instead. </p><p>Apparently not having learned his lesson about raising his voice with her before, he growled, “What did they do to you?”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading!!!! Next chapter will be out when it’s out.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for all the bookmarks, kudos, and comments on this fic! I’m going to try to reply to some comments this Friday, but I might start today just because I know that I should do it when I have <i>some</i> motivation. 😭</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Seven didn’t think that her partner liked her, based on the way he was always scowling and muttering under his breath, only seeming to calm down when she set her hand on his cheek. He’d told her not to touch her in the way that she’d been instructed by the Handler, but he seemed to enjoy all other touches she offered him. Then again, it might just be that he’d thought she was attempting to manipulate him, which she supposed was fair. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>been trying to manipulate him when she’d touched him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Five?” she asked one night, having been tasked to sleep on his bed every night after the first one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Seven?” He raised his brows at her, patiently waiting for her to speak, and she touched his lips, something she did frequently. When she didn’t speak for a few moments, he told her, “You know you can just call me </span>
  <em>
    <span>Five, </span>
  </em>
  <span>right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scowled at him. “Your name is Mr. Five, is it not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shocked her by laughing, and she pressed herself closer to him, delighted by the feeling of his chest rumbling. “Sure, Seven. Call me what you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her nose pressed to his. “Why are you always angry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At her scowl, he added, “Not angry at </span>
  <em>
    <span>you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the very least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you angry at then, sir?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m putting my foot down on this one. You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>allowed to call me ‘sir.’” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gesturing to where his cock was straining against his trousers, she asked, “Do you not enjoy it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stunning her again, he blushed, glancing away from her. “Please don’t talk about that, Seven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?” She was very confused as to why he acted so differently than any other men she’d ever been around. Though Seven had never had a partner, there had been a few men she’d been instructed to bed by the Handler, and it was strange to her that he wasn’t acting like they had. Was she doing something wrong? “Are you mad at me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Seven, I’m not. It’s just… Don’t… We’re not…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catching onto the fact that she was starting to tear up, his mouth closed, and he pulled her closely to him. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured into something you clearly don’t want is all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t know what to say to that. Nobody had ever told her what she wanted, so she didn’t really even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t apologize,” he murmured, not commenting when she wrapped her leg around his waist, pressing her nose to the crook of his neck. “You don’t have to apologize to me about anything, dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whimpering at the pet name, she wrapped her arm around him as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody could hear them when they spoke to one another. She could hear the very subtle noises of every camera that could possibly be trained on them with her powers, and the man beside her regularly swept their room of every bug that could possibly be recording them. It was why she had no problem pressing her lips to his ear, hearing his heart flutter and feeling his cock twitch against her leg. There was something about him that made her feel like maybe she’d confided within him before, and she trusted that, even if she’d told no one else, she could tell him. “I sometimes get scared here, Mr. Five.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why do you stay here, V… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seven?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> His head tilted over, and she pressed her forehead to his. Their lips nearly brushed against one another when he told her, “I would get you away if you asked me. If you told me right now that you wanted to leave, I would take you away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Handler—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t say her name,” he murmured, his mustache tickling her lips as it brushed against them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Please </span>
  </em>
  <span>do not talk about her in front of me, Seven.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.” His eyes flashed, but he didn’t make her stop, even though she could tell it was paining him. “She kept me safe all these years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She made you a </span>
  <em>
    <span>killer.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, with what I am… what I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>do…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She looked away from him. “That’s all I could ever be.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>On some level, he knew that Vanya, as he had known her, didn’t exist anymore. Though Five had no idea what they’d done to her, she clearly had no idea who </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span>, herself, was, let alone him. It didn’t change anything about how he felt for her, but the pain he felt each time she’d look at him like he was a stranger or look at the Handler like she was her savior—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, at the very least, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>trusted</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. Maybe he’d never get back what they’d once been to one another, but she could one day get to a point that she’d follow him when he left. Really, waiting out his contract might be the smartest thing </span>
  <em>
    <span>to </span>
  </em>
  <span>do. If he did that, he could take her back to their time, to before the world had ended and figure out how exactly to stop it with Seven at his side. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like he couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>adjust </span>
  </em>
  <span>to this, if it was what she needed. He’d always miss his Vanya, but he could take care of and protect </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seven </span>
  </em>
  <span>just as easily. Buried deep down, he knew she was still the same. There were no differences in the way that she made him </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and the Handler couldn’t take away the love he felt for her. Even if she didn’t know that they’d once been best friends and even if she didn’t know that he would do anything for her, she was still his Vanya, at the very core of her being. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody could take away the part of her soul that fit against his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though it was hard to think of any of that when he witnessed her sucking the life out of a human being, crouching in front of him protectively, apparently having decided that the mark (an Ohioan man that she’d sneered at when searching through his file, claiming that the state he chose to live in wasn’t even the worst thing about him) was hers. As soon as the man was taken out, she glanced up to Five, apparently seeking his approval. The most he could offer her was a grimace, pained by the realization that she probably looked at the Handler that way at one point, seeking out any scrap of attention she could grasp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you mad at me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d gotten into the habit of asking this, and, each time she did, he felt seconds away from snapping. It was becoming harder and harder for him to keep his calm, but he also knew that the second he lost his patience with her, she would lose all of the trust she’d built for him so far. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not mad at you, dear.” He’d gotten somewhat into the habit of calling her this pet name, mentally attributing it to his age so he didn’t have to assess it any further. If he did, he’d be begging forgiveness to somebody who didn’t even know what he’d done wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a possibility, </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that their relationship could have one day been something romantic, had she stayed at home. However, he knew that never discouraging her from her advances was inappropriate (especially when he sometimes </span>
  <em>
    <span>encouraged </span>
  </em>
  <span>them, like when he called her pet names). It was wrong of him to let her crawl into bed with him each night, and he knew that he <em>should</em> make her stop. That the right thing to do was ask her to go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just that he was seeing her for the first time in <em>decades,</em> and he wasn’t strong enough to reject her. Especially when it was <em>his</em> fault that she was so alone in the first place. Based on what she’d admitted to him, that she was scared of this place, he figured that she was coming to him for protection, which he didn’t mind giving her at all. As long as she wanted his help, he’d give it to her willingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d tell me if you were mad at me, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Probably not, as it would destroy her. Though he couldn’t imagine ever being mad at her at this point in his life, just thankful that he was able to see her alive. “I don’t think that it’d be easy for me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> mad at you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabbed his arm, and he glanced down at her. “Do you want to get back, Seven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you stay by my side when we do?” At the nearly imperceptible nervous note in her voice, he contemplated </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>taking her back, but she trusted him to do so. “I just don’t want to be alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you won’t be.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr Five?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Seven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I tell you something and you promise that it stays between us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” He walked with her to a coffee shop, letting her gather her thoughts, slinging an arm around her waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vanya bit her lip, thinking. He ordered a coffee for himself, starting to ask her if she wanted one too when her eyes widened and she ducked behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Five asked, confused, looking around for what could have possibly scared her. He’d expected the Handler, but, from what he could see, the coffee shop was mostly empty. “Seven?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to go back.” She spoke in a flat tone, and Five wanted to ask what he’d done wrong but she wouldn’t so much as look at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing his briefcase and her arm, he hoped that he hadn’t already somehow broken her trust. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Seven stood in front of the Handler, trying to find a way to apologize for having such traitorous thoughts without irritating her. The woman raised her brows at her, pausing in her work, silently letting her know she could say anything. Oh, she was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Seven had completely betrayed her, almost asking her partner if he would run away with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she told the woman in front of her, though, she’d be putting him at risk. Something felt very wrong about that, so she just said, “I have missed you. May I sleep in your bed again? Instead of sleeping with Mr. Five?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Seven.” The Handler wouldn’t budge after she’d told her no, though Seven had barely ever argued with her before, once she’d given a command. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Head bowing, she asked, “May I spend time with you still, ma’am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Handler assessed her, eyes flitting over her small body. “Strip.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mind suddenly flashed to her partner, almost guilty, but she lifted her hands, pulling off her jacket quickly, shaking. Though she needed this woman’s approval and wanted her, it felt wrong to do this when she’d been asked to spend all of her time with her partner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She started flicking off the buttons of her shirt, searching for any sign of approval in the Handler’s gaze but finding none. When she shrugged off the button-down, she started working at the zipper of her pants, whimpering when it got caught. As soon as she was completely unclothed before her, she waited for the woman’s order to service her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, Seven,” the Handler said, voice suddenly infinitely gentle. Seven looked up at her, feeling her heart pound, hoping that she would tell her that she was proud of her. “If you did your job right, you would have already done this with Mr. Five. The first night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, ma’am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, if you’d wanted to spend time with me again, you’d do something right. Ever since you’ve gotten a partner, you’ve lost sight of what you’re useful for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I know what I’m—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not speak until I tell you to speak to me, Seven.” She flinched, forcing tears to not well up in her eyes. “When you first joined the Commission, you were something </span>
  <em>
    <span>extraordinary, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and right now you’re acting like a simple school girl. You’ve disappointed me, and I expect that only out of my </span>
  <em>
    <span>ordinary </span>
  </em>
  <span>workers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though the woman said more, her words were becoming warbled. The room around her suddenly felt too light or too dark or—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dismissed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her legs weren’t really moving of her own volition, but they propelled her forward. The Handler hadn’t told her she could get dressed, so she did her best to cover her body with her hands, not sure where she was going. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She probably should have known, though, that she’d go straight to his room. Seven didn’t feel safe right now, and Five made her feel safe. When she arrived in front of his door, he didn’t even try to choke her, probably expecting her to be there on some level. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened to you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seven started tugging at his tie, snot starting to form at her nose while she sobbed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vanya, what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was using that name again, and she didn’t care. It didn’t matter what he called her; she would do her assignment as she’d been told. She would do good, serve her purpose, and the Handler would be proud again. “Please,” she begged, clawing at the buttons of his shirt. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just, please—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>crying.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touch me,” she pleaded, pulling off his jacket and his shirt, wondering if he’d agree to this if she wiped her face on the fabric, composed herself a little bit. “Please, Mr. Five, please touch me. I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll do it right—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her voice had come out choked on the last word, so she stopped talking for a few moments, unbuckling his belt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Vanya, please—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be good,” she promised, kneeling down in front of him, staring up at him with wobbling lips. “I promise. I’ll do good, I’ll be—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his trousers and boxers pulled down, she started to lean forward. And then he snapped, “Vanya Hargreeves, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though she had no idea who Vanya Hargreeves even was, she knew that if she did anything else, he might hurt her. Pathetically, she pulled herself back from him. She realized that she wasn’t even crying anymore. Her cheeks felt all tingly, and she could sense a blankness washing over her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she got as upset as she was, standing in front of Mr. Five, sometimes she would just go entirely numb. Like she’d lost all ability to feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything, </span>
  </em>
  <span>as a means to cope with feeling so </span>
  <em>
    <span>much. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” she finally said, still on the floor, kneeling in front of him. If she found something to focus on, something to look at, something just behind him so he wouldn’t know how dejected she was, it would all be okay. It would be okay. He was from her other life, the one that was happy. She’d been happy. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>had; </span>
  </em>
  <span>she knew it. She could almost feel it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vanya Hargreeves had been a very lucky girl. She hadn’t searched for anybody’s approval, hadn’t cried like a pathetic mess in front of anybody. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She </span>
  </em>
  <span>wouldn’t have upset the Handler so much that she’d urge her to say all that she’d said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, Vanya Hargreeves was an </span>
  <em>
    <span>extraordinary </span>
  </em>
  <span>person, and Seven was just ordinary. No, Seven wasn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She was pathetic, worthless, </span>
  <em>
    <span>insignificant—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Mr. Five,” she repeated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She should beg to go back to the punishment room, so she could learn her lesson. She should listen to the sounds of the people she didn’t remember <strike>but would still sometimes get flashes of in her nightmares</strike> screaming in pain, begging her to help them as the walls closed in. Until she was hearing nothing, and it was just spikes and silence and a faint memory, the only one <em>truly </em>residing of her old life—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vanya Hargreeves had been happy, though. Because if she hadn’t, Seven would have spent all of her life like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and she couldn’t <em>accept</em> that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Five crouched down in front of her, on his knees too, she got the sense that he’d comforted her before. His arms wrapped around her, and she accepted his hug, chin resting on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t apologize,” he murmured, lifting her up and carrying her to his bed. He hadn’t put on his clothes. “Okay? Don’t apologize for that. I’m here, V. I’m not going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laid her down with him. “I just don’t want you like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this, </span>
  </em>
  <span>okay? You’re just… Not like this. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>want you, V… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seven. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fuck, sorry, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Seven. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’re crying, dear, and I can’t do that, not like this. Not in these circumstances.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling his covers over their bodies, pressing her to the wall, in between him and any possible threat that could find them, he asked, “She sent you here, didn’t she?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Did he know how numb she felt? Could he sense the lack of emotion in her voice?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you should just torture her, then,” he said, voice suddenly straining to be light. “I’d hold her down if you asked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Grabbing his hands, which had been wrapped around his torso, she held them to her face, sniffling as she pressed her lips to them, keeping them to her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got you,” he promised, chin over her shoulder. Even though they were both unclothed, they weren’t doing anything she’d been supposed to do at all. “You’re safe with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you love Vanya Hargreeves?” She didn’t know why she asked, only that she wanted to know and that he would tell her. He must have a lot of patience, to not have hurt her yet when she was such a disappointment. The Handler had never hesitated to strike her or let her disapproval be clear. Sometimes the punishments were more violent than just a backhand; sometimes she’d isolate her for weeks until she learned her lesson. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>love Vanya Hargreeves. Present tense.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And because she had no doubts that he’d ever let her feel alone, she told him, “You have no idea how much that I wish I was her. Because then I’d be loved by at least one person in the world.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you so much for reading! I’m going to edit the first and second chapter at some point, so I will probably wait to update this until <i>that</i> is done.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was quickly becoming impossible for him to deny her of anything at all. The guilt followed him around at all times, waiting for the moment that she’d realize how awful he’d once been to her. He was convinced that when she did… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, that didn’t matter, anyways. As of this moment, he prioritized their life. Even if he didn’t want her to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate </span>
  </em>
  <span>him, he was certain it would inevitably happen. Constantly, she’d ask him about ‘Vanya,’ refusing to believe that they were the same people. Five had already told himself he’d answer whatever she asked </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely </span>
  </em>
  <span>truthfully, but she never asked what had happened to cause her to run away. Neither did she ask why he acted so jumpy around her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oddly, the more she found out about herself (though she’d start crying any time he even </span>
  <em>
    <span>suggested </span>
  </em>
  <span>they were the same, prompting him to stop for her sake), the more she seemed to trust him. She hadn’t spoken about the Handler since she’d come to him, undressed, that night. Five wondered what had happened there, but he didn’t try to bother her when it would only worsen her already fragile emotional state. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to run away, Mr. Five,” Vanya whispered, nose and forehead pressed to his. Her lack of personal space was something of a comfort, actually, after he’d just killed an entire family. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he’d had a problem with it beforehand, anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five leaned closer, wrapping his arms around her small body. Though she still looked young, much younger than himself, she didn’t look anything like the girl that had left him when he was young. At least she didn’t when she kept touching him, pressing her hand to his cheek and facial hair. Maybe it was the way that she looked at him, in this moment, the way she’d looked at the Handler before, like she was seeking his approval and acceptance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clearing his throat and wishing that he could just tell her everything and beg her forgiveness, he grunted, “Where would you go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Vanya run away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His body stiffened. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cuddled up to him. “You don’t smell right.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Vanya didn’t speak for a second, and Five tried, as subtle as he could, to smell himself, worried that he’d messed up on some method of hygiene somehow. Had it… changed while he’d been in the wasteland? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Five, don’t tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> she threatened, and he forced down the urge to laugh, seeing her widened, imploring eyes. Had she always been this adorable? Or was she just—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had a dream last night, Mr. Five, and I don’t know if it’s real. In the dream, I was in this house that was… it was cold and scary.” She closed her eyes, and Five could easily imagine that she was trying to remember it. The description of the mansion felt pretty spot-on for him, honestly. If that was, indeed, what she was describing. “There was a boy. I think he was my friend. He smelled like chalk, and I called him ‘Five.’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she had figured it had to have been him by the name. It made sense that she would associate the smell of chalk with him, he supposed, considering the fact that he’d always written his equations on the walls in chalk, never wanting to write on a notebook in case he ran out of space. He imagined that his walls had probably long since been painted over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was it you?” she asked, not opening her eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honest. He had to be honest. “I think so, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not like him,” she muttered, sounding like she was seconds from falling asleep. “You’re not quite right.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What had changed in him that made her think that? Five whispered that he loved her once he was certain she’d fallen asleep, gently untangling from her body and crawling off the bed, not wanting her to wake up and see him upset.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Her first assignment had been to end the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By contrast, it made every other assignment horribly boring. She brought a book with her on this assignment, which she was not allowed to take her partner on, per the Handler’s instructions. It wasn’t even an assassination assignment, actually; she had just been tasked to take note of anything out of the ordinary in a small town in the 80s. Apparently, some other agents had fucked up badly enough that the Commission worried they’d messed up something in time. Seven had been given two weeks to do her task, and she was somewhat grateful to be on her own, with how distressed she got each time she took note of her partner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though she hadn’t had any dreams of Vanya Hargreeves again, she found herself thinking about her often. Had Five been her family? He’d described it as something of a boarding school, which would make sense, given the way they’d both been dressed in her dream. A part of her thought that it was just her imagination, though, from hearing about Vanya Hargreeves so frequently. Seven didn’t believe him when he told her they were one in the same, mainly because she sounded nothing like her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you handling your assignment, my sweet?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seven turned around, eyebrows raising. “Ma’am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Handler smiled. “May I sit with you? While you work?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sure.” Conflicted, she moved to the side, showing the reports she’d written up for her. Seven had chosen to work in a thicket of trees, hoping that the silence and scenery might help her focus, and her employer likely knew this, considering she’d taught her a few techniques on controlling her powers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paging through the reports with one hand, the Handler pulled her into her lap with the other, petting her hair as she read. Seven leaned into her touch, laying her head on her chest and listening to the sound of her heartbeat. She wondered what kind of assignment her partner had been given. All she knew was that he was in England, and Seven was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to follow along. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With only a glance up to the Handler, trying to distinguish what she wanted, Seven pressed her lips to her neck, wrapping her arms around her. “You did well on your report,” she murmured, and Seven nearly gasped, trying her hardest to not show any excessive displays but worried she would notice anyways. “Now, Seven, would you like to stay with me for a little while? I know that you have been getting closer with your partner recently, and I’m so proud of you for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>gotten closer to him, but it hadn’t been because she’d been instructed to. In fact, when she’d been trying to follow out her orders, he’d rejected her completely. It had only been when she’d been genuinely curious about Vanya Hargreeves that he started to let her </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>grow close to him. Did the Handler know this somehow? Was she trying to test her loyalty? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she was, then she’d expect Seven to tell her that she’d not gotten closer to him because of her orders, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cocking her head to the side, the Handler told her, “Your partner hasn’t proven his loyalty nearly as much, you know. He isn’t as good with directions as you are, and he’ll be punished accordingly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Seven didn’t know what he’d done to receive punishment, but it encouraged her to not tell the truth of her situation with him. “Well, at the very least, you have me, Miss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Handler smiled softly at her, brushing her lips to hers and confirming, “I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Setting her hand on her lips, where they’d been touched, Seven asked, “Am I still allowed to go to your home, ma’am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” She pulled Seven up to her feet, grabbing her briefcase. “You’re going to stay with me a few weeks. Or until he learns his lesson. I don’t want you around to see that, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though she would not say this out loud, Seven wondered if maybe his punishment </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>being taken away from her. Clearly, he was reminded of his Vanya when he saw her, so she supposed it would make sense that he’d be upset at her being taken away from him. However, if she asked, the Handler might think that she was suggesting that as some sort of slight to her judgement, like she didn’t think she knew how to dole out punishment well. She squeezed the Handler’s hands, and the Handler just smiled at her in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps all Seven had had to do was prove her loyalty, and she’d finally done it. All her life she’d been dreaming of the day that she’d finally make her proud, truly proud, and take her in and keep her as hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, why did she not want it now?</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Five hadn’t let her take the child, one that he was certain was like himself and the people he’d grown up with, and he was being punished for it. He wanted to contact Seven somehow, let her know that he was alright, but he didn’t know how she’d take it if he did find her. She’d gotten almost hesitant to be around him after talking about her dream, like she was worried he would let her down again by not being the boy that existed in her dreams. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, it wasn’t like he knew where she was, anyways. The thought terrified him, but he was also aware that the best thing for Vanya was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>looking, In fact, he’d been told that if he was caught doing so, she’d be killed. Considering the fact that he didn’t know where to look, he wouldn’t be able to find her or save her in time for the Handler to go through with her threat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had no doubt that she would. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, he waited, having been told that his punishment would end when he had proved his loyalty. Whatever that meant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If it was for Vanya’s safety, he was willing to do anything, and the Handler knew that.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading!! Happy 5/7 day!!🥳</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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